"My friends," says Simon, "there can be scarce any hope at all if thou
wilt not hazard thy money for such a prodigious advantage." Then turning
to Peter as his last hope, he asks in despair, "What shall we do, my
brother?"

"We can keep on a-praying, friend Simon," replies Peter, in a snivelling
voice.

"A blessed thought!" exclaims the steward in glee. "Surely that is more
righteous than to lay faith in our own vain effort. So do thou, friend"
(turning to me), "put thy money to this use, for I will none."

"I cannot do that, sir," says I, "without an assurance that Mrs.
Godwin's estate will bear this charge."

With wondrous alacrity Simon fetches a book with a plan of the estate,
whereby he showed us that not a holding on the estate was untenanted,
not a single tenant in arrear with his rent, and that the value of the
property with all deductions made was sixty-five thousand pounds.

"Very good sir," says I. "Now you must give me a written note, stating
what you have shown, with your sanction to my making this venture on
Mrs. Godwin's behalf, that I may justify my claim hereafter."

But this Simon stoutly refused to do, saying his conscience would not
allow him to sign any bond (clearly with the hope that he might in the
end shuffle out of paying anything at all), until Don Sanchez, losing
patience, declared he would certainly hunt all London through to find
that Mr. Richard Godwin, who was the next of kin, hinting that he would
certainly give us such sanction as we required if only to prove his